


Names

by ReginaNocis



Series: Obscure Love [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Nicknames, M/M, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 22:54:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10728972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReginaNocis/pseuds/ReginaNocis
Summary: Tony has a hard time remembering such trivial things as names, so he comes up with witty nicknames instead. Very few people appreciate this.





	Names

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we go! I'm going to work on posting each and every chapter of Obscure Love as their own stories, which will hopefully help both me and you! Let me know what you think! (I'm going to leave the original up for a while, and keep updating it, so it'll be easy to know when new stories are posted.)

Tony was notoriously bad at remembering names. He could remember the people he cared about easily. It took him almost a year to learn and remember Pepper's, but that was impressive for him. Rhodey still went by a nickname, mostly as a running gag. He had no idea, to this day, what Happy's real name was. The man was just so damn happy all the time that the nickname stuck. Tony was pretty sure that not even Pepper knew, which was impressive.

Throw in the Avengers, and Tony was having a hard time. He knew and liked them all. He had learned their names in record times, but the nickname potential was endless, and he just had to. So he rarely used their given names, substituting for fun nicknames in their place. (All except for Natasha, who might kill him in his sleep.) It started as a joke, but turned into a game.

 

_Steve_

 

Long nights in the lab were often ignored as long as he ate occasionally and showed up for team training. The few times he didn't, one of them would come down and force him out of the lab. Usually with Jarvis's help, or Pepper's. When they had to call Pepper, he was locked out of his lab for two days minimum, which always sucked. Nobody liked being down in the lab with him, besides Bruce.

The first time Steve went down there was to apologize. Tony knew the only reason he'd be sought out was for feelings, which he didn't deal well with. The lab door was almost always locked. So how did he manage to get in?

“Traitor,” he muttered under his breath to Jarvis, knowing the AI would hear. He ignored Steve, continuing to focus on his suit in the hopes that he'd take the hint and leave. No such luck.

“Listen, Tony. I said some things before that I really shouldn't have. I just wanted to-” Steve started, but Tony interrupted almost immediately.

“No need, Capsicle. All is forgiven. Pass me that wrench?” he asked, gesturing blindly to a table he couldn't reach. Steve did, but he was frowning in disapproval.

“How long have you been down here?” he asked, glancing around at the chaos of genius that Tony had spread on every surface.

“Do you want the truth, or what I just told Pepper two hours ago?” Tony shot back, still not looking up. “Because either way, it hasn't been long enough, Cap.”

“Tony...” was the warning he got. But there was no actual reprimand, and no nicknames given back. Steve wasn't up to playing. He couldn't snark. That was fine, Tony already knew that.

“If it makes you feel better, I'll make an appearance at the group dinner tonight. Okay?” he asked. Steve nodded and left. Tony did not make an appearance, and he didn't resurface for an entire day after that. But feelings were avoided, and that's what mattered. The nicknames to Steve stopped, too.

 

_Clint_

 

Tony was really starting to hate the fact that he'd put vents into the tower. Or that he put access points to them in every room, and on ever ceiling. Because now he knew how much Hawkeye wasn't just a codename. Clint Barton was practically living in those vents every day, and it was driving him crazy. He'd jump out at the weirdest or worst times, and it was really inconvenient. For example, when Tony was making the trip up to his room to finally sleep at five in the morning.

“Damn it, Katniss! Don't do that to me! I will seal off the vents, don't test me,” Tony threatened when he dropped in front of him suddenly.

“In my defense, the vent opened all on it's own this time,” Clint protested, raising his hands in surrender. “I was trying to get to Nat's room.”

Right, the other thing that drove him crazy. It was fine, of course, if they all wanted to have relationships. It was even fine if they wanted to have sex in the middle of the... well, early morning now. But to flaunt that it's happening when Tony had just broken up with Pepper was cruel.

“Look, I don't care what you do with each other, but I don't want to know that it's happening,” he grumbled, moving past Clint to continue to his penthouse room.

“Jealous, Tin Head?” Clint called after him, making Tony smile. Oh, it was on.

 

_Thor_

 

“Hey, big guy. Want to help me lift this metal piece? You've got bigger muscles,” Tony said calmly, though he was feeling anything but calm. Thor eyed him carefully, trying to find any signs of distress. The piece of metal was lying over Tony's left leg, basically crushing it. His leg was definitely broken, and there was no way he'd be flying home.

“Man of iron, are you certain this is wise?” Thor asked, bending to examine the situation better.

“Yeah, I'm sure. It won't do any more damage to move it. It might actually be worse to leave it there,” Tony babbled. Truth was, he had no idea. Being able to see the piece of metal was freaking him out, though.

“If you are sure,” Thor said, lifting the metal piece easily. Tony almost screamed in pain immediately. Apparently, the metal chunk was stopping blood flow, and the second it was gone... pain.

“Thanks, Pointbreak,” Tony said weakly, laying back down so he didn't have to see his mutilated leg. He was definitely going to be benched for at least a couple months. Steve wasn't going to let him leave the tower... hell, _Pepper_ wasn't going to let him leave the tower. Steve might not let him leave his room. He was already mourning the loss of his lab.

“Man of iron, my name is Thor Odinson. Have you forgotten?” Thor asked in concern. Right, nicknames would fly right over his head. It wouldn't stop Tony from giving them, but it took the fun out of it.

“No, I didn't forget. It's not my head that's hurt, Thor,” he replied softly. “Have Cap explain nicknames to you sometime, when you guys are alone. I've heard him use a few for you. 'Man of iron' is actually a nickname, since my name is Tony.”

“Ah, another Midgardian custom I do not understand. I shall fetch help, Tony. Lie still,” Thor replied, moving to find Bruce from wherever he'd fallen.

 

_Bruce_

 

There was only one time (so far) that Tony had to go out of his way to find Bruce when he needed help in the lab. Jarvis couldn't get ahold of him, which meant he was on the roof. (Or not in the building, but Tony didn't want to think about that possibility.)

Sure enough, there was Bruce standing at the edge of the roof.

“Gonna jump, Jolly Green?” Tony asked, stepping up beside him. Bruce gave him a disapproving look and shook his head silently. “Is there a reason you're on the roof? I mean, Clint I'd understand. But you seem like you'd be more comfortable indoors, where you can't be seen.”

“Even the most introverted people enjoy sunlight sometimes, Tony,” Bruce said quietly. “When I was in Calcutta, I was constantly outdoors in the sun. Sometimes I come up here to think, because it's nice.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, curious.

“I'm pretty sure you could afford to pay more than a penny,” Bruce teased. He was actually smiling now, which was new.

“How much will it take for you to tell me what's bothering me? Name your price,” Tony shot back, grinning. “I can afford anything.”

“You can't give me what I want, Tony,” he replied quietly, no longer smiling. “This is something I'll have to do for myself.”

“Well, when you're ready to accept some help, or even just human contact... you know where to find me,” Tony offered, moving back downstairs. So, no nicknames for Bruce. Fine, he still had Clint to play with.

 

_Clint_

 

“Hey Legolas, I know you're watching up there. Come down and help, will you?” Tony called out after hours of silence. There was a loud thump as Tony assumed Clint hit his head (or something else, but the head would be the most funny) in shock, before he was suddenly standing beside him and holding the suit's arm in place.

“How long have you known?” he asked quietly. Tony would have smirked if he wasn't concentrating so hard.

“I've known you watch from up there for a few months now. I just usually don't say anything, because it doesn't bother me. Hold it steady, now,” Tony replied.

“But _how?_ ” Clint pushed, keeping the arm still. He looked perplexed when Tony glanced over at him. 

“Well, Jarvis does kind of tell me everything. But I knew before he told me. You're not as silent as you'd like to believe, Merida,” he told him.

“I'm an assassin! I'm silent for a living!” Clint protested. “Besides, you need your robots to tell you when to eat and sleep, so you can't talk, Robocop.” If ever there was a time to compliment nickname usage, that was it. But Tony wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

“Sure, birdbrain. Keep telling yourself that,” he said instead, finishing with the arm. He wasn't sure why he'd called Clint down at all. Dum-E could have done the same thing easily. He made a mental note to look into that later.

 

_Coulson_

 

“Sir, Director Coulson is here for a meeting,” Jarvis informed him early one morning about a month after the banter with Clint in the lab. Seven was too early to be alive, and he said as much. Not that anybody was listening. (He assumed. He could never know when Clint was around.)

“What do you want, Agent? Some of us are trying to sleep,” Tony snapped, walking into the communal room.

“Mr. Stark, kindly sit and wait for the others,” Coulson stated calmly, fiddling with something in his pocket.

“Is that your taser, or are you just happy to see me, _Sir_?” he asked, smirking. 

It was a taser.

 

_Clint_

 

Clint was avoiding him. Which meant that this was a good time for Tony to sit down and think of why he was so interested in seeing the archer to begin with. It didn't used to be that way. It didn't actually start until he'd started this game again and nobody had played along except for him. That's what had drawn his attention, for sure. But... it was more than that.

None of the others seemed to care if Tony worked himself into the ground. Clint was up in the vents above him any time he'd been down there for more than a day, and he knew for a fact that he stayed up there watching him until he went up to his room, or at least ate something. Sometimes they both disappeared for up to four days at a time, and only they knew that they were in the same place (kind of).

Nobody else really got Tony's sense of humor, either. But there was Clint, who joked and laughed right along with him without a hint of disapproval. They got along, even when they were arguing. And the nicknames were creative. Almost better than Tony's sometimes.

“Ah, hell,” Tony muttered, realizing what the problem was. “I fell for him.” This was bad, _worse_ because he was with Natasha and happy.

“Fell for who, Bucket brain?” Clint asked, dropping down beside him. “It looked like you were thinking pretty hard there.” To most anyone else, Clint would have looked calm and alert- just like usual. But Tony could see the tense lines in his shoulders and the small frown in his eyes. Something was bothering him. If he were better at expressing his emotions, Tony would ask what was wrong. But this was Tony. He wasn't good at talking.

“Nobody. It's not important,” he tried, hoping Clint would drop it. No such luck.

“You should tell them. We're all worried about you, you know. The break-up with Pepper was hard on you,” Clint replied, meeting his eyes.

“Telling him would result in more trouble than I'm willing to cause at this point in time. But thanks, Featherhead. Someday I will,” he said quietly. “I've been meaning to ask. How long have you and Widow been together?” (Just because he wouldn't say them to her face didn't mean he didn't have them for her.)

Clint snorted, like he thought it was a funny joke. Then he seemed to realize that Tony was serious, and his eyebrows shot up. “You're pretty blind, aren't you? Nat is dating Bruce. She's just a friend to me, more of a sister. I go to her for advice, or when I can't sleep. Why would you think we were together?”

“Just seemed like it to me. When I caught you in the hall a few months ago and you were going to her room, what was I supposed to think?” Tony asked with a shrug, making Clint frown.

“Not that. You really are blind, aren't you? And here I thought you had eyes everywhere,” he replied. “Did Jarvis not tell you who was with who in this tower?”

“No, I specifically requested zero details on that. It... hurt too much,” Tony snapped, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Well it might have helped you. I really hope I've been reading the signs right, but feel free to hit me if I'm wrong,” Clint said calmly. And then he was pulling Tony into the best kiss of his life.

 

_Bonus: Coulson_

“Back again, Agent?” Tony asked, grinning from his spot on the couch with Clint. Movie nights were his favorite, because he now had a relationship to flaunt, too.

“None of you have turned in your paperwork from you last mission. Well, other than Natasha and Steve. So I was forced to come and collect it,” he replied, glaring at them all.

“Can you really blame us? It's so boring, Supernanny,” Tony complained, sharing a smirk with Clint. Clint, who now knew all about his little game. Phil's hand went back to his pocket, where Tony was pretty sure that taser lived permanently.

“Mr. Stark, refrain from using nicknames in my presence. We are all mature adults here, and I am not above tasing you,” he snapped.

“Whatever you say, Secret Agent Man,” Tony said with a wink.

The taser hurt just as much as Tony remembered but it was so worth it just to hear Clint's laughter. Anything would be worth that, and he'd get to hear it for the rest of his life.

 


End file.
